


The Arc Of Forgiveness

by WinterAssets



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Fluff, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Prompt Fill, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-10
Updated: 2016-01-10
Packaged: 2018-05-12 22:59:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,926
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5684422
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WinterAssets/pseuds/WinterAssets
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It doesn’t make sense to Steve why this is so damn <i>hard</i>.</p>
<p>OR</p>
<p>The one where Steve doesn't automatically forgive Bucky for the people he's killed as the Winter Soldier, but Bucky regrets none of it because of where it's led him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Arc Of Forgiveness

**Author's Note:**

> Tumblr prompt fill for: Steve and Bucky having a nice evening but Steve seems troubled and Bucky asks what's up. Steve then confesses that he has read the Hydra reports about Bucky and he can't forget all that terrible stuff. Bucky tells him it's aright because he doesn't remember most of it and really, he'd bear it all again for Steve. And then love confessions happen.
> 
> This is the first time actually writing Stucky, so I'm still feeling it all out. However, I was pretty happy with how it turned out, so I was inclined to post it here. Enjoy!

It doesn’t make sense to Steve why this is so damn _hard_.

He’s been away from the Tower for a few weeks; the Avengers have had to go and diffuse multiple Hydra bases. It’s like they’ll ever end, and each time Steve steps into one, he’s reminded of the guy back home, the one still touchy on recovery and full of dead eyed looks late at night, staring at the wall. It makes a small amount of fear rise up in his chest just thinking about it; his mind goes back to Bucky strapped to a table all those years ago, mindlessly repeating the information on his dog tag and staring off into space. It makes everything in him tremble because that part of Bucky just doesn’t exist anymore. It’s hidden behind a metal arm and a cool look that pierces through everything in its sight.

He’s happy Bucky’s back – seriously, he is. He’s just…he’s having a little trouble trying to get past everything that’s happened. It makes him skittish around the edges and keeps his eyes open even as the body next to him shifts restlessly. He wants to draw Bucky close, wants to whisper that everything’s okay, that he’s back and that Steve’s never going to let anything happen to him ever again. But that was a lie the first time; he still sees Bucky falling from the train, his screams still echo in his ears, and there’s just something behind it all that completely haunts him.

It makes him clammy, makes his head pull in a sharp breath that he’s not sure that he needs. His eyes are unfocused and his ribs are killing him, but he pushes the thoughts away or at least attempts to as he presses his lower back against the counter.

Stark insisted on furbishing his home with all the latest and all of the best designers he could find. Steve had insisted not to do it, that he was fine with something from the thrift store and just making it look like some version of _home_ , but Stark had merely rolled his eyes and moved forward with it. So now he’s stuck with marble counter tops that creak every time him or Bucky lose their temples and press a little too hard. He’s stuck with white leather that makes his nose scrunch up every time he presses himself down on it because it has a good amount of resistance – the ratty old couch in the apartment so long ago had only had that sinking feeling and springs to bring everything to light.

He pushes around his food with a fork, feeling Bucky’s eyes on him from across the table. It makes something in his chest hitch and he swallows thickly, trying to avoid the way that he knows those keen assassin eyes are exploring him. It’d be bad enough that he was trained to look for problems, but then it adds on top that Bucky has known him all his life, has known all of his dirty little habits, and Steve feels his entire body tense up as Bucky inhales.

“What’s wrong?” It’s a simple question in a gruff voice, one that’s been weathered by entirely too many experiments and war. Steve doesn’t know how to answer it though; he shrinks further into himself and pulls a careful breath in through his nose as he tries to get a grip on himself. He’s being selfish; completely and totally selfish to someone who is trying his damnedest to actually find his way now that everything has fallen to pieces. And he’s doing good, better, and Steve actually appreciates that.

But there’s just something _wrong_ and it’s Stark’s fault for showing him the files, for telling him that he has a right to know. It’s not just little snippets like the file Natasha gave him so many months ago. No, this one is more horribly detailed; it tells him repeatedly what Bucky’s done, what the _Winter Soldier_ has done and how proud of it he was. There’s a death in there that jars him more than his own death that was almost accomplished.

Howard Stark had been a friend of both of theirs. Maybe not as close with Bucky but he had believed in Steve like only Peggy had. And his death was detailed, laid out in front of him, and the person across the counter had been behind it. It makes his stomach clench and a shaky breath leave his lips because he just _can’t_ bring up what’s going on in his head. That’s not fair to do to Bucky – it wasn’t him actually doing it and it isn’t fair that everyone in the world is trying to punish him. Steve’s that last line he has to hope and serenity, and it makes him feel more nervous than ever that he’s having these doubts, that he isn’t wanting Bucky close like he originally did.

But Bucky has blood on his ledger, so much more than Natasha or Clint or anyone. The Winter Soldier is a nightmare that’s stricken assassinations during the centuries and has shaped history as he knows it. There’s so much blood, hatred, evil – it’s all Hydra and a reasonable part of Steve knows it, but the vivid details of Howard Stark’s death are still fresh and making his brain feel foggy as he sets his plate down.

His appetite seems to always leave him when he thinks too hard on something like this.

“Nothing,” he finally answers, chewing at his bottom lip out of sheer nerves. He’s rarely really nervous, but right now he’s not sure if he’s ready to have this conversation. It makes him suck in a sharp breath through his teeth and makes his head feel uneven, but there’s just something about it all that makes him feel so selfish and upset with himself. Bucky is staring at him and he knows that he doesn’t believe him, but he can’t exactly turn back away from it because it’s already bubbling in his chest and he feels _horrid_ for the thought at all. “A lot of things.”

“You wanna enlighten me?” That slight Brooklyn drawl is coming back slowly but surely and it makes a shiver run down Steve’s spine. He’s missed that drawl so much and is taken back to the moments in that heated apartment, mulling over his life like a sodden teenager. But Bucky isn’t that person anymore and Steve is trying to separate him from the Winter Soldier. It doesn’t work very well – he knows that’s why he’s even _like_ this right now.

“I just…” Steve pulls in a sharp breath, lets it rattle his bones like it hasn’t before, and then lets it out carefully. Everything aches and he feels like he’s doing the wrong thing, but it’s the only thing that he can actually do. “Tony gave me the full file. Of everything the Winter Soldier did, all the assassinations and everything. Pretty detailed too.”

Bucky just stares at him before he slowly shrugs his shoulder, twisting his fingers around the fork once more and stabbing at his food. “Was it all cool and awesome like the movies? Because that’s all still foggy for me, pal.”

Steve stares a bit in bewilderment, at the sheer tone that Bucky’s choosing to use. It’s not lighthearted but it’s not full of anything else either; it’s an empty hollow sound, like he’s had this argument with himself entirely too many times before. Shaking his head, Steve runs his fingers through his hair and grips the counter behind him. “No, it wasn’t _cool_ or _awesome_ , Buck. You killed a _lot_ of people, and I’m having a hard time getting around that. You’re just brushing if off like it never existed. It _did exist_ Buck, and it’s not a laughing matter. You killed people close to me, close to _us_. And it’s like you don’t even care.”

Bucky is quiet for a minute, slowly processing it and then pushes his food away from him. He folds his hands on the island in front of him; puts his flesh over his metal, trying to conceal it. Steve’s only seen him like this a handful of times, and he doesn’t expect the steely look in his eyes.

“I do care, but I don’t remember it, Steve. It’s foggy, in bits and pieces. It’s a fuckin’ miracle if I wake up remembering my name and not thinking I’m coming out of cryo.” Bucky runs his fingers through his hair, then pushes his metal hand into his lap to conceal it further. Steve feels a twinge of regret at even bringing it up. “But the fact of the matter is Steve, is that I can’t change it. And even if I could? I wouldn’t.”

Steve’s eyes go cold now and he grips the marble harder, feels it creak underneath the super soldier serum in his veins. “You _should_ want to change it, Bucky.”

“Why should I want to change it? It was awful, horrible, and I can’t remember most of it. But it led me back to you. If Hydra hadn’t…if I hadn’t become what I had, then we wouldn’t be sitting here. I would’ve died on that god forsaken mountain. But I didn’t. And I’m _grateful_ for that.” Bucky pulls in a sharp breath through his nose and steely blue eyes careful rise to meet Steve’s. “And I’m grateful that I’m here in this _apartment_ in this stupid Tower, because  you’re here. And for the first time in fuckin’ decades I’m _remembering_ again and I’m no one’s pawn. I’m with…I’m with _you_ Steve.”

“Bucky –“

“I don’t know why you’re so dense about this. I’m not sorry about what I did. I’m not sorry because I thought I was going to die alone on that mountain, the last thing I remember being your face when I fell. But now I can just…” Bucky lets out an aggravated breath; he’s still not that great with words, with what’s going on. He pushes up from the chair and heads over to Steve, crowding his space and making himself bigger. Steve wants to laugh because Bucky looks like an angry kitten, but he just stares and swallows hard because Bucky is staring at him and wanting him to listen. “I’m not sorry about what I did because it led me back to you. That’s all there is to it.”

“But why does it _matter_?” Steve’s frustrated now and Bucky being so close and in his space isn’t helping anything. It’s making his chest ache in all the right ways and he hates it because he’s supposed to be _mad_ that Bucky’s done such terrible things.

Bucky just laughs and reaches up, kisses Steve swift and hard, and then pulls back. His eyes slip along the wide eyes of the super soldier and he shakes his head. “That’s why, you dense son of a bitch.”

Steve stares at him wide eyed for a few seconds, trying to process, and then he’s grabbing Bucky around the waist and pushing back against the counter. Bucky laughs into his mouth as Steve’s lips are on his again, the younger taking possession of it. Bucky lets him; he’s allowed to choose who controls him now, and he’s good with the feeling of Steve’s bigger hands on his hips. It’s different – everything is now.

But Bucky’s _trying_ and he has _Steve_ there, and Steve’s breathes in the cologne that taints Bucky’s skin and just _gives into change_ because that’s all he can do.


End file.
